I’ve been my daughter’s proud Papa for the last two years. But until she was three, nobody could have predicted a change in our family.
I gave birth to her, becoming her primary carer and stay-at-home parent. Then COVID happened. Through a surge of self-awareness triggered by isolation, I realised I was trans. I emerged from lockdown liberated, but no longer comfortable fitting into the template of the small-town family.
My relationship with my own parents was wounded by their queerphobia. It made me determined to do family life in a way that was right for mine, as a united effort based on unconditional love.
Being a queer dad only felt strange when observed by the ignorant. The neighbours redoubled their sidelong looks this year, when my partner came out as a trans woman.
We push back by parenting the same way we always have - teaching our daughter compassion and acceptance.
Loving myself more means I have deeper emotional reserves for her. That’s all that matters.
Sometimes I forget that not everyone agrees. The stubborn poltergeist of ‘traditional family values’ inhibits the rights and freedoms of queer parents here in the UK, while families like mine are labelled ‘extremist’ by the Russian Ministry of Justice and in other countries all over the world.
We are criminalised in some places and demeaned almost everywhere else. We are frequently legislated out of caring for our kids. Queerphobia dicates that we are suspected at every turn by those who think only a cisgender, heterosexual couple could provide our children the stability they need.
Yet, as with so many queer and trans rights issues, the LGBTQIA+ family isn’t the only one affected.
The ‘traditional family’ template restricts all families from finding their own best home-career balance too. It reduces the worth of nurturing children by not legally validating childcare as work - that is, until it’s entrusted to someone whose paid job is childcare.
Being a guardian is work. But it’s work we gladly do, when we’re allowed to by the capitalist demands of a society with a redundant image of the model nuclear family. One that forces too many of us to make impossible choices.
Between earning enough to provide for our kids, or having the space in life to support them. Between living honestly and happily, or being seen as worthy parents. It’s a tricky balance to strike, day-in and day-out.
We still see the cultural ripples of this enforced dilemma in the miserable state of UK paternity leave, limited to two weeks for no more than £344.96 total pay. One report found a third of new fathers took no leave at all, despite more than 62% saying they would if statutory earnings were better.
The will to do what’s right for us and our families is there, but societal norms are holding many people back.
That’s why fathers like me, queer parents and guardians, are demanding the right to take pride in adoring our kids, or simply being part of their lives. They’re looking at how embracing their queerness can actually help all kinds of families.
We know that sharing the emotional load, whatever our gender, helps us all grow and brings us closer - as families, and as humans.
Get the Queer Gaze in your inbox each week with our free weekly newsletter or pitch to write an edition for us now.
QueerAF members are critical to our sustainability.
Our unique approach to commissioning means you're in charge of what we make. It means we're focused on what matters to you, not advertisers or other outside pressures.
QueerAF members include the likes of senior media professionals, queer business owners, and LGBTQIA+ community leaders.
But really they're just a bunch of queer folk who care about our community and how we're portrayed and misrepresented in the media. Do you?
Because our members not only fund our journalism - they also choose what we create.
We believe there’s a better way to be seen, heard and celebrated. Join us to change the media for good.
